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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771844">Nothing Feels Better Than This</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iske/pseuds/Iske'>Iske</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, i completely mucked up canon for Skyward Sword but I DO NOT CARE, it's completely and utterly indulgent, sorry if it's difficult to read, the Sky/Sun is like pre-relationship, this is basically some weird little AU thing where Sky dual wields both Fi and Ghirahim, this kinda jumps all over the place</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:00:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771844</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iske/pseuds/Iske</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And eventually you get tired of being tossed aside, beaten and battered, left to rot as a bloodied pulp - you get jealous of love, of being loved. You ache with a want that spans over a hundred years, you hunger for a tenderness you have long been denied. You are sharp, you live to serve - live to carve. You were not made for the gentler things; hugs are not meant for you, kisses were not made for you - you will never be tenderly caressed under the summer sun.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sky (Linked Universe) &amp; Fi, Sky (Linked Universe) &amp; Ghirahim, Sky/Sun (Linked Universe)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nothing Feels Better Than This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not own the Linked Universe AU nor the Legend of Zelda franchise; the former belongs to Jojo and the latter to Nintendo.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Stop messing around, Link! Get back into position!”</p><p> </p><p>Dizzy and sore, Link struggled to push himself back up - exhaustion and his weaponry weighing him down, trying to pull him down to the ground. Groose stood across from him, completely silent as his eyes sparked with the brief flickers of concern he allowed himself to feel. Link sent him a quick nod, pouting when the sparks were snuffed out and Groose turned away from him with a grunt.</p><p> </p><p>Instructor Owlan has already looked away, choosing to ignore the way Link sluggishly forces himself to stand. His elbows and wrists ached, his limbs were unbelievably heavy with sleep - the sword was easy enough to hold, but the shield was awkward, feeling all too much like a regular hunk of metal strapped to his arm instead of the graceful defence everyone else made it out to be. Link huffed, eyelids sliding low as he looked over his gear. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t going to be able to fight like this. The shield felt wrong, he didn’t feel fast enough with it latching onto his right arm, making every pivot feel like he was drowning in thick molasses. </p><p> </p><p>Before the instructor could turn around and gauge his unsteady stance, Link unstrapped his shield and snatched up an extra sword. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re supposed to keep the shield.” Groose drawled, bored and an effortlessly, immovable fighter.</p><p> </p><p>Link swung his right hand around, enjoying the unpractised, janky fluidity of the motion and the extra speed it allowed him. Enjoying the sense of balance it granted.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” He hummed with a shrug before readying himself.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about Instructor Owlan,” Zelda huffed, hoisting herself up onto the fence and leaning out over the edge, looking off into the clouds.</p><p> </p><p>Link nodded with a quiet hum, arms crossed on the weathered wood, head buried out of sight.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s just teaching what he’s read about, balanced fighting styles, you know?” He angles his head just enough to see her hands, calloused from practised sword drills.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I just-” He breaks off to yawn, lifting his head to rest his chin on his arms, sleepily looking out into the endless horizon, “I just feel awkward using a shield.”</p><p> </p><p>“They are a bit difficult to navigate at first.” Zelda murmured, trying to appeal to him and anchor his drifting mood. </p><p> </p><p>At first. Link had been practising for a while now, everyone had, he should’ve learnt how to handle a shield properly by now. But he kept turning back to holding two swords, falling back on his speed instead of building a solid defensive routine.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling a finger poke his cheek, he flopped his head to the side to look up at Zelda.</p><p> </p><p>“How about we practice in secret? Tonight! We’ll get our weapons from the Sparring Hall!”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt your dad would-”</p><p> </p><p>“Pssh,” she scoffed, “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”</p><p> </p><p>Link hummed absently, eyelids drooping under the soft guidance of the sun. Knees weakening beneath him, he was just about ready to collapse and doze the day away when he heard cruel snickers somewhere behind him. Cawlin and Strich - Groose nowhere to be seen - walked past, not bothering to hide the way they’d stare at Link before turning to gossip and cackle to one another.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that about?” Link mumbled, trailing off as he watched Zelda hop off the fence, snatch a rock from the ground and pitch it at the pair. Arcing through the air faster than a loftwing, it slammed into the wall beside them. The pair screeched and bolted, ducking around a corner in a mad flurry of limbs.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right, YOU BETTER RUN!!” Zelda bellowed after them, hands on her hips.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly wide awake, Link watched her spin around and lean against the fence next to him, shoulder against shoulder, hip against hip. She tilted her head so it just barely rested on him and grumbled in nonsensical noises of frustration, face red and cheeks puffed up.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish they’d just leave you alone.” </p><p> </p><p>Link carefully rested his head against hers.</p><p> </p><p>“You were angrier than usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.” Her anger simmered under the single syllable.</p><p> </p><p>“Any particular reason…?”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda frowned, now glaring into the clouds like she was trying to vaporise them with her gaze alone.</p><p> </p><p>“People keep making stupid jokes about you dual-wielding - stupid jokes that shouldn’t even be jokes because it isn’t a joke.”</p><p> </p><p>She glanced at him, sighing as he tilted his head like a confused fledgling.</p><p> </p><p>“In some texts, dual-wielding is a metaphor for liking both men and women - at least I think it’s a metaphor.” </p><p> </p><p>Link stared at her, wide pale eyes blinking slowly as he digested what she said.</p><p> </p><p>“So they’re making fun of me because...they think I like men and women?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Zelda grumbled, cheeks red and round once more, “it’s dumb. They’re dumb.”</p><p> </p><p>Link didn’t say anything, he simply looked away and back into the clouds, mulling the idea over. He knew Zelda liked both genders, but he himself had never given much thought to it before. He’d just loved who he loved. Gender had never been a big part of it, like appearances. He fell in love with a person’s laugh, the way they talked about their favourite things - those were the things that mattered to him when it came to love. Not gender.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I just love everyone,” Link spoke softly, cutting over the delicate tune of a wind chime and the chirps of dancing birds above them, “I mean I-” <em> love you most </em> “I’ve never really given much thought to gender before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough,” Zelda murmured, smiling at him with sparkling eyes, colours and light dancing like a pond's surface on a sunny day. Skipping a beat, his heart thundered loud in his ears, leaving him breathless as he rested against Zelda and watched the clouds roll by.</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>He missed starry nights spent sparring with Zelda. He missed home cooked meals and warm, comfy beds. He missed familiar faces and he missed his Crimson Loftwing. </p><p> </p><p>Link sagged against a tree, glancing up to the dark sky above him. The Cloud Barrier was so thick he couldn’t see the stars - all he could make out was the vague light of the moon bleeding through to The Surface and its denizens.</p><p> </p><p>He ached <em> everywhere </em> . His eyes slid shut against his will and his limbs felt like they were going to pop right off his body with how heavy they were. He <em> wanted </em> to sleep, to give in and collapse right there on the forest floor, but more than that he <em> wanted </em> to catch up to her. He <em> wanted </em> to see her again.</p><p> </p><p>“Zelda,” he croaked, voice rough and mind groggy with bright memories of flowing blonde hair, calloused fingers twining with his, curled up amongst the flowers and reading a collection of poetry, giddily chasing the birds until they took flight…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Master.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fabric brushed against his side, unbearably gentle and careful as if he was about to shatter. Managing to open his eyes just enough to see the world through blurry crescent moons, he watched Fi float next to him, her wings of silk and ruffles reaching out in an attempt to steady him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Master, you do not look well.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Link laughed, light and absent. He shook his head, aiming for nonchalance but ending up with nausea as the dizziness swelled.</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” he groaned, “I have to catch up, I have to make it in time, I-”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t miss her again. He can’t keep arriving just seconds after she’s gone. He’s going to go crazy.</p><p> </p><p>Purple and blue fabric wraps around him, warm in contrast to the cold crystal pressed against his shoulder. With wider eyes he can see Fi wrapped around him, perfectly still and void of emotion as seemed to be the norm for her. </p><p> </p><p>“Fi?” Her name left his lips, a tender whisper, trembling and on the verge of breaking.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘There is an 87% chance of increasing happiness and decreasing stress when hugging someone or being hugged.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her stoical voice tugs a laugh out of him, grating but sweet. Pushing away from the tree, he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, burying his face into the folds of fabric clumped around her shoulder. His left hand settles on her back and it feels right, the way that wielding her in battle does - the way she sits snug in his left palm. His right hand tingles, feeling hollow and empty and he holds Fi tighter, grateful that she doesn’t complain.</p><p> </p><p><em> Calloused fingers twining with his </em>...he yearns for a warm bed and good food and feels only half the hero he is meant to be.</p><p><br/><br/>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>The Sky Child irks him.</p><p> </p><p>He always shows up right when Ghirahim doesn’t need him to - the <em> gallant </em> hero, journeying to save the Goddess incarnate with Fi, ethereal as ever, by his side. Unbelievable. His continued interruptions in Ghirahim’s plan push the sword spirit to work harder. He cuts deeper, he moves faster. He can feel his serrated existence walk a razor thin line but he marches on with bleeding feet. His Lord is counting on him. He <em> needs </em> him. (He must need him, Ghirahim’s sure, he’s <em> positive </em> - he’s needed, he must be)</p><p> </p><p>Fi carves through the air in precise and luminous slices, gentle and stinging in the gleam of pale blue eyes. He hates those eyes. (They’re getting in the way - what do they have that he doesn’t - how do they always manage to interfere, this is between him and his Lord, just <em> go away </em>)</p><p> </p><p>He will stalk in slow circles, he will watch as the Sky Child races to reach his Goddess in time, as he dances with Fi in his lethal grasp - and Ghirahim will curse him. Will hiss his name with a boiling, sickly green light, oozing through his mind, making him sloppy. He will curse him, he will curse them both.</p><p><br/><br/>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Fi waits in the palm of her Master’s hand, poised and ready to strike as Ghirahim sways and sashays around them - away from them. His eyes are narrowed and dark, white hair falling like a curtain around his face to cast him in shade. </p><p> </p><p>She watches him go. She feels the exhaustion and loneliness of her Master, sense him losing himself in a tirade of memories that she cannot protect him from and allows herself a similar moment of weakness. In a moment where battle no longer exists, her edge is dulled and she loses her impeccable shine.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Chances of Ghirahim joining us? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She is slid back into her sheath with a sad click.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 27% </em>
</p><p><br/><br/>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Link sat in the Deep Woods, buried under canopies of green and dotted with flecks of gold. He rolled his sleeves up and pulled off his boots and socks with pained hisses, face twisting into a grimace as the stench reached his nose.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘You must rest, Master.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” He hummed, flicking his footwear away and childishly sticking his tongue out at the offensive objects.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘You must bathe, Master.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Link paused and turned to Fi, playfully shocked and offended in the speckled sunlight that fluttered through the leaves above them. Fi remained resolute and impassive under his gaze, always the perfect picture of calm.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you saying I stink?!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘You do stink, Master.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well yeah! But you don’t have to say it!” Link tried to whine but was betrayed by the bright smile creeping onto his face, lifting the bags under his eyes and deepening his dimples.</p><p> </p><p>It felt weird, the motion was familiar but horribly stiff - Link took a moment to realise that it had been a while since he’d last smiled so naturally. Amidst a friendly conversation, engaged in joyful banter…</p><p> </p><p>Exhaustion came back, an unwanted visitor knocking at his door and dragging him back into the murky depths of his mind. Dead tired, he sighed until it felt like his chest would collapse in on itself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Master?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, I’ll wash up soon,” Link hummed, slumping over and closing his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Rest and a quick wash soon. Then afterwards, we must make haste if we are to stand a chance.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>All his time spent at the academy was spent wishing he could move faster, shrugging off shields in spite of instructor Owlan’s rules and slashing with both arms - now? All he wanted was to slow down, to not have such a high demand and series of expectations placed upon him. He wanted to crawl like a snail, enjoy the luxury of a lazy day...</p><p> </p><p>“I know, we have to catch up to-” <em> blonde hair, flowing over shoulders, laughing so hard she snorts, she always stands too close to the edge </em> “We have to catch up.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘I will analyse our experiences with Ghirahim in anticipation of our next battle. It is only natural that we will encounter him once more.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Link opened his eyes wide, flashing back to sharp angles, white hair, a ridiculous red cape…</p><p> </p><p>“Why is he doing this?” He asks the ground, “I mean, what does he get out of it?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘He lives to serve the one we exist to defeat.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Is that all?” Link tilts his head to meet Fi’s blank eyes, watching the way they sparkled as the sunlight bounced off of them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Why do you seek the one lost to you?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He finds himself frozen in spite of the warm air hugging him, gold and green surroundings vanishing as he stared back at the loyal sword spirit, lost in her blues and purples. Grass brushed his bare calves, blades bouncing off the soft green of his tunic but not once losing their beat.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers losing his breath like this before, amongst rolling clouds but still to sparkling eyes. <em> Always </em> to sparkling eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough.”</p><p><br/><br/>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Ghirahim hangs back, watches from behind crumbling stone as the Sky Child has his heart cut in two. It’s messy (it’s <em> agonising </em> to watch), but she leaves him anyway. She has a duty, she’s determined and she refuses to stop. She plays her role perfectly and it makes Ghirahim’s head spin with hatred.</p><p> </p><p>Sky Child is broken, late <em> again </em>. He can hear Fi chime at him, there’s no words, just sounds as she tries to reach out to him in her weaponised state. She doesn’t understand comfort but she wants to hold him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Ghirahim can see the collapse of an entire foundation of emotions over the Child’s face. The pain, the loneliness, the desperation - he can see the way a gaping hole is carved into his chest through that infuriating green tunic.</p><p> </p><p>(Lost and alone, full of longing, just wanting somewhere to belong, someone to belong to  - where was his Lord? How dare they take his Lord away like that - he will fight forever, he will scour the barren land, he will do what he has to in order to make things <em> right- </em>) </p><p> </p><p>(Ah.)</p><p> </p><p>Ghirahim doesn’t think he can curse the Sky Child that day.</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Fi sits in her sheath as her Master forges on. She’s silent and patient as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other and carve a path through the torrential downpour. He wobbles but refuses to fall; powering on through his pain. If she was mortal, she liked to think she would be in awe of him.</p><p> </p><p>Clunking, metal against metal, she rolls the words around in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fair enough. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fair enough. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Cold and wilting, no longer perfectly sharp, she calculates.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Chances of Ghirahim joining us? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 44% </em>
</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>And eventually you get tired of being tossed aside, beaten and battered, left to rot as a bloodied pulp - you get jealous of love, of<em> being loved </em> . You ache with a want that spans over a hundred years, you hunger for a tenderness you have long been denied. You are sharp, you live to serve - live to <em> carve </em>. You were not made for the gentler things; hugs are not meant for you, kisses were not made for you - you will never be tenderly caressed under the summer sun.</p><p> </p><p>There is an endless cycle of romance you are not permitted to enter, there is a unit of care and support you are not entitled to. You live to serve a force of pure anger and malice who does not know the meaning in or value of being gentle; darkness oozes from His fiery form and you are expected to tough out the heat to earn even a casual glance. Every bare minimum act of decency must be earned, any ounce of appraisal cannot be heard unless you have bled for Him.</p><p> </p><p>You bleed back to back with a Child who understands your desperation in ways you never thought imaginable - the long race just to be by someone’s side once more.</p><p> </p><p>You long and hunger for the softer sunlight that the Child receives.</p><p> </p><p>You want what he has.</p><p> </p><p>You wander what that’s like.</p><p> </p><p>And eventually, after hundreds of years of painful loyalty...a seed of doubt begins to grow.</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Link furrows his brow with concern, fumbling over the words that surge in his mind, tripping over his tongue while he watches Ghirahim fall apart. His colours flash and change and in simple, split seconds he looks like Fi - sleek and crystal, but darker. </p><p> </p><p>“You-?”</p><p> </p><p>“YOU LOATHSOME LITTLE CHILD, HOW COULD YOU-” Ghirahim wails, voice tinny and scratched thin into cutting wires. Sounding far too small for the volume.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a sword spirit, aren’t you? Like Fi?”</p><p> </p><p>Ghirahim keeps the little noises of pain to himself, clutching his arm, fingers digging into the cracks Fi had managed to slice into him. He refused to meet pale blue eyes, forcing himself to stare at the cracked floor with a wounded crease between his eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p>He feels like he has been stretched entirely too thin, running mad to serve his Master (so dark, so desperate to serve, so eager to please - used used <em> used </em>) only to collapse at every hurdle.</p><p> </p><p>Link watches as Ghirahim hunches over, trying to protect his injury and shield it from their sight. With a shuffle of fabric and boots scuffing against the floor, Link approached - cautious and slow, making sure to show his hands the whole time. Fi continued to sit in his now lax grasp, steady and sending him quiet murmurs of warning but Link resolutely turned his attention away from her. Fumbling, he focused on pulling out a potion instead of heeding her words.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know if this works for sword spirits?” He tilts the sentence up at the end in question, crouching down low to Ghirahim’s level, carefully reaching out to pass the potion over to the bundle of grey, white and red.</p><p> </p><p>In a flurry of movement - of course it is, of course he couldn’t predict it, he <em> never </em> can when it comes to Ghirahim - the potion is slapped out of his hand and a short blade, sharp, dark and serrated presses against his jugular, following the nervous gulp that shakes Link’s throat.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m not-”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t <em> need </em> your charity, you <em> pathetic mortal </em>.” Ghirahim snarled.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Link argues back, weak and wanting because of course he’s lonely trapped down on The Surface and because he can’t help but hope for Ghirahim - for the way he sees him wander alone, always alone, for the lonely way Fi analyses him with distant statistics, always alone.</p><p> </p><p>“I can take care of myself.” Ghirahim scoffs with an easy sneer, jerking up onto his feet and staggering away, defensive despite the offensive tone to his voice. Putting distance between himself and the Sky Child because he is pathetically weak and wanting, drowning in his loneliness and neglect, just wanting someone to belong to, someone to hold him in the snug of their palm once more.</p><p> </p><p>(He does <em> not </em> let his eyes wander to Fi, perfect and sharp in Sky Child’s grasp, he <em> does not </em>)</p><p> </p><p>Pale blue captures him.</p><p> </p><p>“Take care of yourself Ghirahim.”</p><p> </p><p>Caring for the enemy is ridiculous and risky - but then again, it’s been a long time since they truly felt like enemies.</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>You’re desperate, you caved once and gave up everything you’d known for hundreds of years. All that devotion, all that loyalty...gone in a single second of pure blue. </p><p> </p><p>You have to prove yourself, you have to be forgiven, because He’s all you know (<em>knew</em>)</p><p> </p><p>So you get to work.</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Fi watches through the gleam of her blade as darkness takes hold, scales striking one another, mouth stretched wide into a gaping maw lined with teeth and flame…</p><p> </p><p>Ghirahim is tossed aside - his feelings and loud personality silenced in one fluid motion.</p><p> </p><p>He has fulfilled his purpose. </p><p> </p><p>Done his job.</p><p> </p><p>As she feels the nervous sweat turn the usually strong left-handed grip on her hilt clammy, she hopes. For a fleeting moment, she hopes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Chances of Ghirahim joining us? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>So broken and neglected, she finds herself hoping that he will join them...but it wouldn’t surprise her at all to find he would never fight again. Spirit broken, purpose lost. Betrayed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 12% </em>
</p><p> </p><p>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Lightning is striking all around him, arcing through his arms and shooting sparks up along his spine. It’s agonising and his teeth are grinding themselves to dust under the weight of each powerful bolt, but Link can’t fall now. He’s been tired for so long - <em> lonely </em> for so damn long - he just wants to go back to the way it used to be, he <em> has </em> to, but the only way he can is if he stands up now.</p><p> </p><p>Hulking and dark, looming over him with burning eyes and hair, His name rang loud through the air - a feeling of dread, a vision of death.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>DEMISE</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>DEMISE</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>DEMISE</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Chimes of blue statistics are drowned out by a growing flame of anxiety - he can’t fall now, <em> Zelda </em>, is this it, can a tired child, only half a hero, really save them all - dark red, like dried blood, cuts through his clouded mind. Wounds finally learning how to heal, blood finally slowing and drying in the kind sunlight that managed to filter through.</p><p> </p><p>Instinct.</p><p> </p><p>Familiar red cape and white hair shifting, hurtling towards him - his right hand flies up and snatches the hilt out of its arc through the charged air. A mirror to Fi; dark red serrated edges but embedded with the mark of the Triforce, finished with white embellishments and chipped wings for extra flair and a sign of vulnerability.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a moment of clarity in the eye of the storm.</p><p> </p><p>Shield discarded - speed is all he’s ever wanted and needed - he feels whole. Left and right hand perfectly balanced, he thinks, for the first time since he started chasing after Zelda,</p><p> </p><p><em> I can be a hero. I </em> <b> <em>can</em> </b> <em> do this. </em></p><p> </p><p>Ringing in the tension, pulling him forward to the fight he can hear Fi whisper in his mind, almost amused but undoubtedly happy despite what she claims and what Ghirahim now denies.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 100% </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (Oh, shut up) </em>
</p><p><br/><br/>━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Years have passed and worlds have flown by, vanishing from one dark portal to the next. He’s no longer just Link, he’s Sky <em> (Sky Child)</em>. Fi is back in his hands with her familiar chimes and his heart aches for her, but it’s a healthy ache now. It’s no longer a gaping wound he was working to fill. It feels like closure.</p><p> </p><p>His right hand however, is once again held hostage by a hunk of metal. A shield - necessary for his defence and the image of a true knight, but Sky loathes it all the same. If Zelda were here she’d laugh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> In his hand one moment, struck aside the next. The price for choosing Sky over Demise. Fire and ozone didn’t even bother to watch as dark red went hurtling out of sight, over the edge and through the clouds - but pale blue couldn’t bring itself to look away. Horror, loss - I’ll find you! I promise! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sky has often found himself looking into his right palm and cursing its emptiness. His new loves, his perfect family, have asked if he’s alright every time they catch sight of his gloom but he’s fine. He will be. He will be just as soon as he finds Ghirahim.</p><p> </p><p>So he pushes on, through ambushes and nights where he sleeps but never rests - he’ll be fine just as soon as he’s whole again. He’ll be fine when he finds Ghirahim, regains the chance to show him just how kind life can be - how he doesn’t have to stretch himself thin the way he did for Demise ever again.</p><p> </p><p>It’s during one such ambush in Warrior’s version of Hyrule where the Goddess looks over her shoulder and smiles down upon him. Hordes of monsters that seem to actually understand what strategy is and - <em> worse </em> - how to use it cover the land. The Links have been divided and it won’t be long until they’re conquered. </p><p> </p><p>Sky is scanning the battlefield for his brothers, desperate to regroup as he sluggishly bashes his shield against a bloodied snout. Fi is chanting statistics to him, dazed but trying <em> so hard </em> to help him once more in this new quest.</p><p> </p><p>He needs to move faster, <em> he needs-  </em></p><p> </p><p>(Darting through with the same irregular movements, a red cape flutters in the wind with memories and monsters hot on its heels. He’d been so desperate to belong somewhere only to be cast aside, and yet he had never hit the ground. Picked up and turned over in a gentle palm, he hadn’t known a chapter could end like that - that closure could feel like <em> that </em>. In one simple act of kindness, with just one calloused hand outstretched and snatching him out of the air, he’d been devoted once more.)</p><p> </p><p>Swinging around, spinning Fi in a delicate but deadly arc, Sky regains his footing. Instructor Owlan’s voice shouts in his head, demanding for a perfect stance over and over until his legs fall on muscle memory and position him just so. He can hear Wind shout somewhere to his right but he can’t see the little pirate. Reassuring whispers like blue and purple fabric cascading over him fill his mind, calming the loud pounding of his heart.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He needs- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>(He remembers feeling weightless, spinning through crackling air and casting one last hopeful glance back to the fight - flames never once looked his way no matter how much he stared, no matter how hard he worked, but a quick flicker to pale blue had him breathless. Demise never gave him a second thought but here was a new Master, inexperienced and painfully mortal, having only held him for a few minutes but still agonised at having had Ghirahim ripped from his grasp. He can recall the flutter of a single light thought as he catapults over mindless monsters towards the familiar flapping sailcloth. <em> Ah, this was the right choice all along.)</em></p><p> </p><p>The monsters have organised themselves amidst the chaos and Sky can see the cruel glint in their eyes as they charge towards him again. <em> He needs- </em></p><p> </p><p>“SKY CHILD!”</p><p> </p><p>Snapping around he can see the shift of red and white to a clean and serrated blade. Just like before, he drops his shield - dropping his defence and risking it all because he <em> knows </em> that voice, he <em> knows </em>that blade - and snatches the sword out of the air by its hilt. In a moment of bright and brilliant light, Sky pulls back on the momentum and slams jagged red edges into the ground. </p><p> </p><p>The earth splinters beneath his feet and all around them, spreading like an angry web and echoing like a crack of thunder. Monsters were sent flying back with indignant shrieks, their only answer a delicate and tender smile, as warm as nostalgia. Left hand and right hand, perfectly balanced. Sky feels like the hero he was and all other Links claim him to be.</p><p> </p><p>Standing with a straight back, he easily flips both Fi and Ghirahim in perfect arcs, slicing through the hush around him with the same air of confidence and defiance that shook Demise.</p><p> </p><p><em> Chances of success have increased by 49%, </em> Fi hums into his head and Sky <em> swears </em> he can hear a smile.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (Only 49%?! Preposterous!! I am worth far more than a mere 49%!!) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Joy surges through him in a warm gold; laughter bubbling and carrying through the air like the wind chimes back home up to a parting dark sky, welcoming the sun that peeked through.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Your presence has caused it to rise from 42% to 91% </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (...that’s...hm. Fair enough, I suppose I could be worth 49% just this once.) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Turning on the rallying monsters, Sky smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hoo Boy.</p><p>This is really just an indulgent piece that blatantly ignores canon so I'm sorry if that bugs you, but I'm just here for the feelios and what ifs. I hope that you enjoyed reading this fic! Please feel free to leave a comment if you'd like, regardless, have a good day/night!</p><p>(ALSO!!! If you see any mistakes anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it up! Thank you!!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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